Letting Go
by TheLaughingOne
Summary: Picks up just a month after the end of season 3. Carrie and Quinn are both questioning the life choices they've made up to this point, but have different perspectives on how to move forward. The story is canon and imagines events that may take place in season 4. I do not own Homeland an no copyright infringement is intended.
1. Chapter 1

"She's beautiful," Quinn said as he looked down at the baby sleeping in the portable bassinette next to Carrie's hospital bed, tightly swaddled in a light pink blanket from the nursery. He reached out and stroked the top of her head that was covered with the thinnest layer of strawberry blonde hair. He smiled sadly as he noted, "You said you wanted a piece of him. Looks like you got it."

Carrie was propped up against the pillows of her hospital bed. She pushed her blonde hair out of her eyes as she looked over to her six-hour-old daughter. Forcing a smile, she softly agreed with her colleague, "Yeah, I guess I did."

She then turned her head toward the window and stared at the lines of water that were streaking down from the soft rain outside. After a few moments, she gave small shake of her head, as if to bring herself back to reality. She sat up and smoothed the sheet that covered her legs.

"Anyway, less than a day in here and I'm already going crazy. They said I can go home tomorrow, which is good since I have about a million things to do before I leave. You can't imagine how much administrative bullshit I have to go through to transfer over my non-essential cases."

Quinn listened to her ramble on without saying a word. He knew better.

"I mean, Jesus, you'd think when they ask you to move halfway around the world, they'd ease off on the paperwork." She stopped as she noticed the blank expression on Quinn's face. "I guess I don't have to tell you. You're probably knee deep in your own pile."

Quinn hesitated for just a moment. "Nope," was all he replied.

Carrie furrowed her brow. "They're not having you turn over cases before the move?"

"I'm not moving," he said simply.

She scoffed, "C'mon Quinn, you can't mean that."

"Yeah, I do. I told you that I'd help you clear Brody. Well that's done now. I'm out." He began to fiddle with the tab on top of his soda can and turned to look out the window of her hospital room, not wanting to see the anger he was certain was building in her eyes.

Carrie pushed herself up in bed even more and then leaned forward. "So, that's it? You're just done? What about everything we've worked for? What about the long-term play with Javadi? You're just going to quit before we see it through?" The animated movement of her arms punctuated each of her pointed questions.

Quinn laughed, "We both know that you don't need me to see anything through."

He walked back over to the bassinet and began to stroke the little girl's head again, as he continued. "I mean, shit, Carrie, aren't you sick of it too? Your daughter doesn't have a father because of these assholes and you're still working for them."

Carrie sucked in her breath and then rolled her eyes. "We both know it's not that simple. What happened with Brody was complicated…"

Quinn interrupted, "Oh don't try to feed me some bullshit I know you don't believe. They killed the guy because they knew it was to their strategic advantage. Which was the smart thing to do, I guess. But you can't convince me that it was the right thing to do."

"Of course, I'm not going to tell you it was right," Carrie protested a little too loudly. The baby began to stir in her bassinet and let out two small cries. Quinn began to lean down to pick her up. Carrie, seeing his intention, put up her hands, "No don't."

Seeing the quizzical look in Quinn's eyes, she explained, "I read somewhere online that you should help them learn to self soothe or something."

"Well, far be it for me to argue with wisdom of the Internet," he tried to joke. But the look on Carrie's face showed that he had clearly missed the mark.

"Jesus, Quinn, back off. Since when did parenting classes become part of black ops training?," she asked sarcastically.

Ah, so this is how it's going to be, Quinn thought to himself. "So, I assume you're not bringing her with you," he said aloud, hoping this would be a more benign topic to discuss.

"Maggie said she'd take her until I get back," Carrie replied plainly, but her voice still carried an edge.

Quinn simply nodded, reading the clear signs that he needed to tread carefully.

"I suppose you think that's another way I'm being a bad mom, right?" Carrie narrowed her eyes, seeming to dare Quinn to challenge her.

Quinn knew enough not to take the bait. "No, I don't," was all he offered. He then leaned over the bassinet and kissed the sleeping baby on the forehead, feeling Carrie's eyes boring into him.

He turned toward her. "Listen Carrie, I get you're pissed. I'm not entirely sure why, but if you want to turn it on me, fine, I don't really care. I just came here to tell you congratulations… to tell you I'm not going… and to tell you to have a nice life."

As he turned to walk to the door, Carrie offered her own goodbye, "Fuck you, Quinn."

* * *

><p>Saul picked up the phone on the third ring and didn't bother with a hello. "So, how did she react?," he asked.<p>

"Shitty," Quinn replied.

"Yeah, well, you told a woman who just gave birth and is about to start a new job and move to a new country, that the team member she relies on most isn't going with her," Saul laughed. "What did you expect?"

"Nothing," Quinn sighed. After a moment, he admitted, "I guess I was hoping we'd have a civil conversation about what the fuck she's thinking leaving her baby and taking this job."

Saul paused for a moment. "You didn't think you'd talk her out of going, did you?"

"No," Quinn lied.

Saul smiled. "You did, didn't you? So, what did you say to her?"

"Nothing really. I just told her I was quitting and asked how she could stand working for people that killed her baby's father," Quinn explained.

"Jesus, Peter, you might want to try a little subtlety sometime," Saul advised.

"Yeah, that's never been my strong suit," Quinn said. "Anyway, it doesn't matter now because she's decided she's pissed at me."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing that you're going to be working for me instead of her then," Saul reasoned.

Quinn didn't say anything. Just took another sip from his soda. The rational part of his brain wanted to agree with Saul. It would be so much easier to leave it all behind – the stress, the moral ambiguity, the physical pain, the emotional toll. God knows, he had a million reasons to leave the agency and never look back. But there was one reason to stay that he couldn't shake off.

After a few moments of silence, Saul finally spoke again, "You're not going to be coming to work for me, are you?"

"Nope," Quinn admitted.

Saul sighed. "Well, I'd say I was disappointed, but I never figured you'd jump ship anyway. Take care of her, Peter," he advised. "She won't want your help, but she needs somebody on her side."

"Believe me, I know," Quinn said and then hung up the phone.

After he heard the click on his end, Saul laughed to himself, "He might be as socially inept as she is."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the feedback - it really does push me to write when I know people are reading. I feel like we got a decent glimpse in to Quinn's POV in the last chapter, so this one is more Carrie-centric. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Two weeks later…<strong>

Carrie walked through the Islamabad airport, noticing that relatively little had changed in the over-crowded, rundown space since her last visit here. Nice to know that some things remain constant, even if it's just an old airport, she thought.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice she recognized. "Carrie!," Fara shouted, waving her arm above her head.

Carrie walked over to her colleague, smiling at her as she approached. "You didn't have to pick me up," she protested as she gave Fara a quick, one-arm hug.

Fara smiled, "It's no problem. Do you have any luggage?"

"No, I had everything shipped ahead of time. It should already be at the house," she explained.

"Very good," Fara replied. "We have your new office all set up for you. Shall we go there first or would you rather me take you to your home?" Carrie had to smile at Fara's formality and efficiency. She was so different from her. And Carrie knew that was exactly why she needed someone like Fara on her team.

"The office would be great, thanks Fara. My house is just a short walk from there anyway. And I'm itching to get started," Carrie said. She was full of nervous energy and knew the only way to calm herself down was to make herself busy.

The two women made small talk as they drove to the CIA field office in Islamabad. Fara told Carrie about her new house and how her father was doing back home. She inquired about Carrie's daughter, which was met with a brief, generic response about what a "good baby" she is. Fara also filled in Carrie on the new office and their colleagues.

As they drove through the crowded streets, Fara finally got around to the topic she really wanted to discuss. With worry in her voice, she asked, "Carrie, why isn't Quinn coming? The office manager told us he wouldn't be here, but nobody has spoken to him or has any information about why."

Carrie took a deep breath and then sighed. When she finally spoke, she offered a simple explanation, "Quinn's not coming because he's an asshole."

Fara laughed for a moment, but when she saw the serious look on Carrie's face, she said, "Oh, you're not joking, are you? Okay…" her voice trailed off, uncertain how to handle her colleague's bluntness.

Seeing the concern on Fara's face, Carrie offered a little more, "I talked to him a couple weeks ago and he told me he was quitting. Anyway, he's no longer part of the team, so let's just move on, okay?" Hearing the edge in Carrie's voice, Fara decided not to press the issue.

Once they arrived at the field office, Fara gave Carrie a quick tour of the small space and introduced her around. Carrie asked the team to gather in the conference room for a quick meeting. She shared her vision for the office and how she appreciated their support. Then, she spoke at length about the importance of their work and stressed the need for the utmost trust and commitment among the team. And just as she concluded with "The only way we will accomplish our mission is if we have each other's back," Peter Quinn stepped into the room.

* * *

><p>After Carrie finished her meeting, Quinn waited patiently for everyone to clear the room. He pretended to be doing paperwork while he watched her out of the corner of his eye. He knew by her over-animated interactions that she was intentionally dragging out conversations with people to avoid speaking to him. That made him smile, just a little.<p>

Finally, everyone else was gone, even Fara who left reluctantly after Carrie told her she'd just walk home.

"So," Carrie blew out a breath as she crossed the room toward him, "what are you doing here?"

"Starting my new job," Quinn said not looking up from the papers he was reading.

Carrie scoffed, "Uh, you don't have a new job. I told Lockhart that you weren't coming."

Quinn looked up at her, "I know. Then, I told Lockhart that I was coming. He was so happy that somebody actually wanted to be on your team that he reinstated me immediately." He gave her a smirk as he took a bag of peanuts from his pocket and popped some in his mouth.

"Ha ha," Carrie said sarcastically. "Seriously though, Quinn, what the fuck?"

Quinn sighed. He'd been dreading this question, knowing that Carrie wasn't the type to be satisfied with him just saying he changed his mind. And he knew he wouldn't be doing either of them a favor by admitting the truth.

So instead, he launched into his rehearsed response, "Listen, Carrie, about what I said at the hospital… I was tired and frustrated. But I thought a lot about it and decided that the work is too important to leave," he said in the most sincere voice he could muster. He figured she'd appreciate that last part since it's how she feels.

Carrie narrowed her eyes a bit, indicating that she didn't really buy what he was trying to sell. But after a moment, she smiled. Quinn was relieved, as her response told him that having him here was more important than pressing the issue.

"Plus, I knew you'd fuck everything up if I wasn't here to save your sorry ass," he added with a grin.

"Couldn't quit while you were ahead, could ya?" Carrie laughed.

He smiled and grabbed another handful of peanuts. After a moment of silence, he asked carefully, "So really, how are you?"

"Fine," she said without much emotion.

"Oh ok, well great to hear." His sarcastic tone indicated that he didn't believe her for a second. "So, are we going to really talk or not?" he asked.

"Not," she said. "I've flown for over 24 hours and I'm exhausted. I'm going to head home." She picked up her bag and began to walk toward the door. As she placed her hand on the door handle, she turned back toward him, "I'm glad you're here, Quinn," and then she left.

Quinn smiled. It was more than he expected.

* * *

><p>Carrie arrived at her small house and was greeted by a stack of boxes in her living room. She found the box she was looking for and took out just a few essential items. In silence, she changed clothes, watched her face, and made up her bed. Then, she laid her head down on her pillow, looking at the small photo that she has just sat on the nightstand next to her bed. The nose, the eyes, the hair – she looked more like her father everyday. Carrie kissed the tips of her fingers and touched the photo of her daughter. "I'm sorry, baby," she said. And just like she had every night for the past two weeks, Carrie cried herself to sleep.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thanks to those of you that took the time to leave a review or comment. I really do appreciate it. If you're like me, you're counting down the days until Quinn and Carrie are back on our screens, so hopefully this will tide you over a little.

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><p>Sitting quietly in the control room of their Islamabad office, Carrie's team watched the screens light up with the clouds of debris as the drone hits its target. They sat silently as they waited to hear if it was a success. A few moments later, they heard the voice of the agent who was their eyes on the ground for this operation. His voice was somewhat broken up by static but they finally heard his confirmation, "Mission black horse was successful. I repeat, the black horse is down."<p>

A smattering of applause filled the room - just like it had the last few weeks for each successful mission. Agents congratulated one another on their strong intelligence and careful planning. A few of them gave high fives. Carrie quietly exhaled as she put her head down and pulled her hands through her hair. Then, she looked up and gave a small smile. "Another one down," she said to no one in particular.

Quinn stood at the back of the room. His arms crossed and his face, as usual, was completely unreadable. His eyes, however, were alert and fixed on their most frequent target – Carrie. He watched her stand up and turn to the agents around her. She shook hands with many of them and even gave Fara a quick hug. Quinn noted the smile on her face. More importantly, he noted the look in her eyes.

As their colleagues filtered out of the room, Carrie walked over to Quinn. She said with a satisfied smile, "Pretty great, huh?"

"Yeah, sure," is all Quinn offered in reply.

"Oh c'mon, Quinn, even you have to be impressed with that hit. It was textbook," Carrie challenged him. Her eyes flashed and her posture changed subtlety like an animal preparing to defend itself.

Quinn, however, didn't feel like arguing. "It was good intelligence work, Carrie," he offered simply. He then reached for his jacket that was hung on the back of the chair in front of him and put it on. "I'm beat. Have a good night," he said with a small smile.

Carrie narrowed her eyes and cocked her head slightly as he turned toward the door. She bit her lip for a moment and then said, "Hey, you wanna grab a drink? I've got this great bottle of vodka I snuck in."

Quinn's face registered a look of surprise that was gone as quickly as it appeared. "Sure, Carrie," he said with a nod.

* * *

><p>Carrie unlocked the door to her small apartment and tossed her bag on the floor next to the door. Quinn followed, almost tentatively. "Nice place. I love what you've done with it," he deadpanned as he looked at the nearly barren living room.<p>

Carrie laughed, "Yeah well, according to Virgil and Max, this décor should right up your alley."

Quinn smirked, "Touché."

Carrie walked into the kitchen and grabbed the only two glasses she had and the bottle of vodka from the cabinet. She poured generous drinks for each of them and called out to Quinn in the living room, "Hey, do you want anything to eat? I think I still have a bag of pretzels in one of my boxes."

Quinn shook his head, "Nah, I'm good." There was no furniture so he sat down on the floor next to a small record player, a set of speakers and a stack of albums. He flipped through them - Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Thelonius Monk, Charles Mingus, Charlie Parker – she had every album they ever made.

Carrie walked into the living room with the glasses and sat down on the floor across from Quinn. "You like jazz?" she asked as she crossed her legs.

"A little," Quinn said. "I just started listening to it more."

"Nice," Carrie said and then held out her glass. "To black horse," she toasted with a triumphant smile on her face. "May the bastard burn in hell."

Quinn stared at her for a moment and then simply nodded and tapped her glass with his. He looked down and swirled the vodka around a few times before he took a long, slow drink.

Carrie took note of Quinn's silence. "So what? You're not happy that we succeeded?"

"No, it's, it's… good I guess," Quinn said with a sigh. After a moment, he asked, "It's just, doesn't it get to you ever? Dropping bombs onto homes where kids could be sleeping?"

Carrie was incredulous as she replied an edge to her voice, "Um no, because we're killing terrorists, Quinn – you know, people that want to kills hundreds of our kids. I've got absolutely zero regrets about that."

"Yeah well, you seem in your element," Quinn observed.

"Oh, thanks for the damning praise," Carrie said sarcastically. She took another drink and then blew out a breath as she shifted her legs and got up to her knees. "I get it. You think I'm some cold, emotionless bitch. But guess what? That's why I'm great at what I do."

Carrie pushed herself up to her feet and started to walk toward her bedroom as she announced, "I'm going to find those pretzels."

Quinn shifted back so he could lean against the wall behind him. He continued to sip his vodka as he listened to Carrie rifle through boxes in the next room. After a couple minutes, she walked back in, munching on a pretzel.

"So, you seem grumpier than your usual grumpy self. What gives?," Carrie asked as she sat back down on the floor with her bag of pretzels.

Quinn took another slow drink of his vodka. He finally admitted, "Today is his birthday."

Carrie didn't have to ask who he was. "Ah," she replied. "Well, that explains a lot. Did you call him?"

"Nope. I don't ever call him," he said.

"Why not?," she asked.

Quinn shrugged, "Because I'm not his dad anymore. She got married last year. That's his dad now. If I called him, I'd just be the selfish asshole who was fucking with his life." Quinn maintained an even tone as he explained, but Carrie could hear the slight catch in his voice.

She considered what he said and then asked, "So, do you regret it?"

"Every day," he said simply. And then he added with a shrug, "But I made my choice so I've gotta live with it." He took another drink and then asked, "Do you regret it?"

Carrie furrowed her brow as she objected to Quinn's question, "There's nothing to regret. My daughter's fine and the only reason I'm away from her now is because I had to take this post."

Quinn raised his eyebrow.

"What? It's not the same thing, Quinn. I'm not choosing the job over her," Carrie protested.

"Yeah, fine," Quinn said as he began to stand up. "Hey, thanks for the drink. I really am tired though."

Carrie stood up too and followed him to the door so she could lock it behind him.

Quinn turned back toward Carrie just as he reached the door. "I get you see yourself as some heartless bitch and you think that's what you need to be. But that's not you. You care… probably too much. That's why you're great at what you do."

"Thanks Quinn." She smiled for a moment and then took at small tentative step toward him. She quickly reached up and put her arms around him. Stunned, Quinn awkwardly patted her on the back before she released him from the hug.

He gave her a small smile, turned away and walked out.


	4. Chapter 4

Again, I so appreciate the feedback/reviews. This chapter has lots of Fara! I really love her character, as she is such a contrast to Carrie. I'm excited to see how they develop their relationship this season, as I think Carrie could be a fantastic mentor for her. Also, this chapter was getting too long, so I split it into two, so you're going to get a double update.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

Carrie was alert and steely-eyed the next day as she addressed her team, "Good morning, everyone. Congratulations on another successful mission, but it's time to move on to our next target, Abdul Al-Nasser. As you all know, we've been watching his niece for several months now. Her name is Amani and our intelligence indicates that she isn't too fond of her uncle's activities over the last ten years. Based on the work of our field agents, we believe that we may be able to acquire Amani as an asset to use against Al-Nasser."

It was a typical morning briefing for Carrie the day after the completion of a successful mission. In her mind, the time for celebrating and pats on the back was over quickly. It was back to business as usual and that meant back to the next name on the kill list.

Carrie continued her address of her key agents, "Now, the big question at this stage is how we are going to recruit Amani. We need to determine how to approach her, when to approach her, and most importantly, who should approach her. Thoughts?"

A young agent in the back of the room spoke up, "According to the brief on Amani, she's a bit of a party girl, at least by Pakistani standards. She likes to sneak into the discos and she, shall we say, is rather open to male companionship. It probably makes sense to have a guy approach her, under the guise of being interested in her."

Fara was sitting next to him and she nodded, "I tend to agree. As I read her file, it seemed obvious to me that it would be easiest for a male agent to establish a relationship with her."

"Okay, good. I think you all are on the right track," Carrie complimented her team. That was one aspect of being a station chief that really surprised her – how much she liked leading her analysts. Questioning them, listening to their insights and teaching them how to think through the intelligence more effectively – it was fun for her and she was good at it. She was a natural mentor, and her analysts were improving immensely underneath her leadership.

Fara was the greatest recipient of Carrie's tutelage, as Carrie saw her as her most promising analyst. Carrie had come to rely on Fara's insights not only regarding financial documents, but also her reading of people. She seemed to have a sixth sense for understanding motivations and behavior, and so when Fara shared her thoughts regarding Amani, Carrie always listened attentively.

"Carrie, I think Quinn is the right agent to approach Amani," Fara said in a quiet, but confident voice.

Quinn, who had been standing at the back of the room looking mostly bored with the meeting thus far, suddenly looked up. His eyebrows were raised in surprise.

Carrie's head titled and she gave Fara a questioning look. Quinn was the agent they sent in to finish a job, not the one they dangled to begin one. "Quinn?," she asked, her tone skeptical.

Fara continued, "I acknowledge it's a surprising choice. But based on my research on Amani, I feel like Quinn, for lack of a better phrase, is just her type."

Quinn scoffed, "Fara, no offense, but that's a stupid idea."

Carrie laughed, "Yeah, I have to agree with Quinn. He's not exactly the person that comes to mind when we need a man to charm a woman."

"Thanks Carrie. Appreciate the support," Quinn deadpanned.

Carrie rolled her eyes, "Oh fuck off, you know what I meant." Then she turned back toward Fara who had been watching this exchange. Carrie challenged her, "Really though, Fara, you're going to have to convince me, because frankly, I don't see it."

Fara nodded and then made her case with conviction, "I understand your skepticism, but it's clear that Amani enjoys a challenge. The agent recruiting her is likely to have more luck by putting themselves in her path, but then being aloof, rather than pursuing her. That is what will interest her. Quinn is perfect for that."

Carrie considered Fara's analysis for a moment and then finally gave a shrug as she said, "Okay, let's give it a go."

"What?," Quinn protested. "C'mon, this is fucking stupid. I'm not bait and I don't recruit."

"Well, Quinn, I guess we'll just have to teach you how," Carrie responded with a smirk. "Okay people, that's it for this morning." The agents shuffled out of the meeting room. Quinn was among them and he was still pouting, which of course Carrie enjoyed.

"Fara, can I talk to you for a minute?," Carrie called out.

Fara turned back from the door and walked toward the front of the room, "What can I help you with, Carrie?"

"Listen, I know I said okay, but do you really think Quinn in the best man for this? Amani's recruitment is really crucial to our ability to get in close with Al-Nasser and we can't fuck it up."

"Carrie, I know this isn't Quinn's typical function on the team, but I'm sure he's perfectly capable of getting a girl to like him," Fara rationalized.

"Yeah, I'm not so sure about that," Carrie scoffed.

Fara gave a quiet laugh and then asked, "You seem quite skeptical about this plan. Is there something you're not telling me?"

Carrie's brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, is there another reason why you don't want Quinn to be the one to recruit Amani?," Fara asked.

"Um, other than being worried he's going to fuck up my operation? No, not really." Carrie's voice had a slight edge of defensiveness to it. "Why? Is there some other issue I should be concerned about?"

Fara smiled and then straightened her jacket as she responded, "Of course not, Carrie. Shall I work with Quinn on the strategy to recruit Amani?"

Carrie waved Fara off, "No, I got it."

Fara replied, "Of course. I thought you might say that." She smiled again, as if she were enjoying some kind of private joke.

Carrie shook her head as Fara turned around and walked toward the door. Sometimes Fara is so fucking weird, Carrie thought to herself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"Can I just shoot somebody instead?," Quinn asked.

Carrie laughed, "We're almost done." They'd already spent a half hour going through the play that Quinn was going to make to recruit Amani, and Carrie knew that was about 29 minutes more than what Quinn wanted to spend on it.

Quinn rolled his eyes and sighed yet again, "Carrie, I've fucked women before. In fact, I've fucked a lot of them. I swear I've got game. You can ask most of the members of the nursing association in Virginia."

"Nobody likes a bragger, Quinn," Carrie pointed out. "C'mon, this isn't about how to flirt. This is about the play you're going to make. If I recall correctly, you helped me do the same thing before I met Brody in that hotel bar."

"And we all know how well that worked out," Quinn scoffed.

"Yeah well, maybe if you had been a better coach, it would've gone better." Carrie took a quick drink of her coffee and jumped down off the table on which she had been perched. The office was long empty, as she and Quinn had stayed late to talk through the play with Amani.

"Okay, we know she likes to sneak into the disco at the Marriott on the weekends, so that makes sense as the place to approach her. Plus, she wouldn't be surprised to encounter an American there. So let's role play this." Carrie walked over to their tall work table and sat on the stool. She flipped her hair over, tilted her face down and looked up at Quinn through her eyelashes as she purred, "I'm Amani. Come and get me."

Quinn gave a small laugh as he walked over to her. He sat down on the stool next to Carrie and sipped his water.

After a minute, Carrie finally protested, "Ok, you can't just sit there drinking. You have to actually do something."

"Do I?," Quinn smirked. "This usually works nine out of ten times without me ever having to say a word."

"Arrogant bastard," Carrie muttered. She blew out a breath and then tried again, "Okay, pretend I'm the one time out of ten just to get this moving."

Quinn nodded and stood up. Then, he slid smoothly onto the stool next to Carrie, looking at her until she turned her head to look back. He gave her a sexy, half smile as he said, "Pardon me, is this seat taken?"

Carrie, caught off guard by the smile, fumbled her words the slightest bit as she responded, "Um, no. Go ahead." She started to turn her glass in her hands, as she felt Quinn's eyes on her.

"So," Quinn said. He leaned in closer until he was just a few inches away, "I don't think you're supposed to be here."

Carrie couldn't help but smile at his cocky approach, "What do you know about where I'm supposed to be?"

"Nothin'" Quinn said, putting up his hands up in mock protest. "All I know is a pretty, local girl in a disco full of untrustworthy, foreign men has bad news written all over it."

"Aw, I get it. Men like you, right?," Carrie teased.

"Me? No, I'm just here for the music. I won't allow myself to be corrupted by a woman like you," Quinn said with a sly smile.

Carrie laughed again. She had never really noticed his dimples before. Probably because he doesn't smile much, she thought.

"Well, what if I want to corrupt you?" Carrie flirted as she twisted around in her stool to face him more directly.

Quinn gave a small laugh and shook his head. He then turned to face her and leaned forward until his nose was just inches from hers. He held her gaze as his hand drifted to her knee. Carrie drew in a breath at the contact, but didn't look away. Quinn then slowly moved his hand up her thigh to where her hand was resting. He gently picked up her hand and began to stroke her fingers with his thumb. His eyes never left hers. "Trust me, sweetheart, you couldn't handle me."

Her breath was shallow and quick, but Carrie couldn't look away. Unconsciously, she licked her lips and just as she was about to speak, her cell phone rang. Carrie jumped as if she had been suddenly jolted back to reality and she jerked her hand away.

"Um, I should, uh, probably get that," she muttered as she slid off the stool and walked to the table where her bag was sitting. She fumbled around for a few seconds and then finally fished out her phone. She looked the number, frowned slightly and then pressed "ignore."

Quinn's eyes had followed her and he noticed her quick frown. He furrowed his brow as he asked, "Bad news?"

"Um no, it's just Maggie. She usually calls this time of day before she drops the baby at the daycare."

Quinn nodded, "Oh okay, take the call then."

"No," Carrie shook her head, "It's fine. " Noticing Quinn's quizzical look, she added, "I mean, she calls EVERY day."

"Well yeah, she has your daughter, Carrie. Don't you want to know what's going on with her every day?," Quinn pressed.

Carrie rolled her eyes and scoffed. "That is really none of your business."

Quinn shrugged. "I'm your friend so it is my business. I'm worried about how you're gonna feel when you realize you missed her childhood."

Carrie put her hands, "Wow. Now, that's REALLY none of your business." She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes.

"Carrie, I'm just concerned…"

She interrupted, her voice now filled with vitriol, "How about we talk about what concerns me, Quinn? I'm concerned that I have an agent on my team who isn't committed to the job. Aren't you the guy who's been saying for months you want to leave? I mean, tell me Quinn, why the fuck are you still here?"

Quinn stood up, picked up his jacket and turned to walk toward the door as he said, "We're done here."

Carrie followed him, her voice getting louder. "No really, I want to know. You're all morally superior with your concern about the impact of our work. Not to mention your judgment about what kind of mother I am. Since you think you're so much better than the rest of us, tell me, why are you here helping check names off a kill list rather than taking care of your own kid?"

Her last words stopped Quinn dead in his tracks. He spun around, his fists clenched at his side. He snapped back, "I'm here for you, you ungrateful, little shit."

He turned and walked back to the door, slamming it behind him as he left.

Carrie just stared at the door, her mouth agape and a confused look in her eyes.


End file.
